


the crushing weight of a single star

by deniigiq



Series: finding the lost and losing the found [2]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Complicated Relationships, Gen, Identity Reveal, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28536885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deniigiq/pseuds/deniigiq
Summary: “YOU CAN’T BE THE MAND'ALOR,” Luke exploded.“I’m NOT,” Din shot back over his shoulder.“GOOD.”“Help me get rid of it,” Din pleaded as he swept the hilt up out of the sand.“Not in a million years,” Luke said.(Luke comes to an unfortunate realization. Then he and Din finally find a common ground.)
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin & Luke Skywalker, Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker, So there's some Unrequited Din/Luke in this one, but it's not the main focus - Relationship
Series: finding the lost and losing the found [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090520
Comments: 34
Kudos: 1023





	the crushing weight of a single star

**Author's Note:**

> well fuck. Y'all liked the other one so much I couldn't leave you hanging. I'll do a trilogy for y'all, why the hell not? 
> 
> Anyways this is a reminder that I don't go here and know nothing about anything StarWars. Thanks for your indulgence or something.

Time had passed since their meeting and Luke had to admit: he and Din still were not friends.

He had spent many an hour now chasing after Captain Bucket and trying to get to know him. He’d set up camp with the man, fought sand creatures with him, argued over piloting the Rust Bucket—had even gone undercover into an old empire base with him and yet still, Din’s helmet twitched in irritation anytime Luke even spoke his name.

Ungrateful. That was what he was. Totally and completely ungrateful.

And now he had the nerve to touch down and sound the alarm about an incoming invasion of so-called ‘hostile bodies’ right when Leia had planned a visit.

It was mind-boggling the lengths Din would go for Luke’s attention like this.

“I’m not sure that that’s what’s going on here, my poor stupid friend,” Leia said over the lip of her tea cup.

Luke sighed so hard he felt his bones deflate.

“If only he would open his heart,” he said.

Leia’s eyes flicked down to her teacup and then back to Luke’s face. She set the thing down carefully at her side.

“Luke,” she said. “I really don’t think that’s the problem here.”

“Well, what else could it be?” Luke lamented.

Leia’s eyebrow arched.

“You want my opinion?” she asked.

“No.”

“My opinion is that you have two problems going on here, concurrently.”

 _Two_ problems? No, surely there was but one problem.

“First, Captain Bucket Head appears to be operating outside, how shall we say— _larger politics,”_ Leia said.

Luke stared.

“You mean—” he started.

“I mean that getting the latest intel of this galaxy would fry Mando’s brains,” Leia said. “You yourself said that Boba Fett—”

Speak not that foul name, sister.

“—said that he’s from some underground sect, right? Well, maybe their creed prohibits them from engaging with certain types of information.”

“Like reading?” Luke deadpanned.

Leia shrugged.

“Do you have any better ideas?” she asked.

No. What was the other problem from before?

“Oh,” Leia said, “That’s your crush.”

His WHAT.

He, Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master, did _not_ have a crush. On anyone. Period. And _certainly_ not on some Mandalorian who thought that Leia Organa, the leader of the Rebel Alliance (and unfortunately Luke’s sister), was a ‘hostile body’ intent on destroying Luke’s school and murdering all of the children in it.

Luke had more important things to waste his time on than such a man or such a crush.

“So you felt nothing when you two got locked in that utility closet together last month?” Leia asked.

Shut up, evil witch. Your actions have consequences.

“Oh, right, right,” Leia hummed, “And the time before that where you both cuddled up underground for two hours fighting—wait, let me see, was it—it _was_ —a colossal, venomous beetle. Yes, you felt _nothing_ pressed up against all that beskar?”

Now that she mentioned it, Luke had only felt the bruises, to be honest. Beskar was a poor landing surface. 2 out of 10; would not attempt again.

“Luke, look at me. You’re deflecting,” Leia said.

“I’m not deflecting, I’m telling you that the only thing I feel for that—that— _walking time capsule_ is pain,” Luke snapped. “And pity. Pity, Leia. He only comes here because he can’t let go of his emotional attachment to the child. He’s in denial of it. So he justifies his presence and behavior as protecting his son’s school.”

“And his teacher,” Leia added.

“No, not his teacher, he doesn’t give a shit about his teacher,” Luke said. “The only thing he cares about, regarding the teacher, is that the teacher--in a moment of weakness--offered his alliance in…”

“In?” Leia said.

Luke cleared his throat.

“Combat,” he said.

“Ah.”

Yes.

“So you orchestrated all this yourself.”

No, wait. 

Leia smoothed her skirts with a gloating smile and Luke could have thrown a pail of water right over her smug head.

“Don’t you say another word,” he warned. “You’re twisting all of mine out of context.”

“Hmm. Am I?”

Yes.

“I don’t think I am.”

Then you’re lying to yourself, rebel leader. Begone from here. Luke was done.

A crush. On Mando. _Him_.

Luke scoffed at the dishes in the tub in front of him.

Imagine being so naïve as to fall in love with a sentient suit of armor. Imagine enduring a life of training and tragedy and constant vigilance, only to develop an attachment to a man who hadn’t even recognized Luke as a jedi the first four times they’d encountered each other.

Imagine falling in love with some fool who forgets your name at least once a week and does a piss-poor job of covering it up. (‘Whatever-his-face-is,’ ‘D-duke?’ ‘MOVE.’ Unbelievable.)

Luke was many things, and a fool among them occasionally, yes, fine, he’d admit it, but he was, first and foremost, a Jedi. And Jedis didn’t fall for Mandalorians. Not from a height and not in love.

That was that, wasn’t it, Grogu?

He deferred to the child on the stool next to him and found Grogu’s ears laying almost completely flat against his shoulders. His eyes were barely slits.

Luke waited.

Grogu hissed at him.

“Thank you, I’m glad we agree,” Luke told him.

Something happened. Something changed. And days later, Luke found himself stood in the presence of the Rust Bucket’s owner at sunset.

Din fumbled his words.

“L-listen,” he said. “I’m flattered. That’s very kind of you. But I think, for the sake of Grogu, that we should keep our two businesses separate. And distinct. Do you understand?”

Luke couldn’t tell if that was a vein twitching in his eye or a piece of sand.

“Excuse me?” he asked without asking.

Din set Grogu down on the ground and shooed him away tightly. He stood back up as the kid wandered back towards the shelter. He cleared his throat.

“The kid told me, uh. Ahem. That.”

That?

“That there are feelings. That you have feelings. That he felt your feelings. Towards me,” Din said.

No, no. That was definitely a vein threatening to pop in Luke’s eye.

“I hate you,” he said.

Din’s helmet recoiled in surprise.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh, I see. I’m-I’m sorry. Maybe the kid misinterpreted—”

“You took aim at my _sister_ ,” Luke snapped.

There was sudden silence.

“That was. Your sister,” Din said. “On the—”

“Yes, on the rebel ship. Yes, she is my sister. Let’s focus on the first part of this, shall we? The part where you tried to murder her?” Luke snarled.

Din took a wise step back. He dipped his helmet forward a little.

“I didn’t realize you two were—”

“Twins?” Luke asked.

That’s right, Mando. Bow that bucket.

“Apologies.”

“And now you come out here, accusing me of some sort of feelings towards you? What self-assurance. What hubris you have,” Luke said. “I told your son the exact same thing, but instead he’s chosen to tell lies?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Din said hurriedly. “I think he just didn’t understand. Let’s. Here. Let’s forget it. It was my mistake. I apologize.”

He didn’t raise the helmet. The fingers of one of his gloves wrapped around the other and squeezed.

“I have been extremely lenient with the two of you,” Luke said. “Most of my students do not see their families again, ever.”

“I’m sorry,” Din said. “I understand that you’re upset. I meant no disrespect.”

You better hope so, Mando.

“I think it’s best if we didn’t speak anymore, Mandalorian,” Luke said. “Clearly our cultures are too different for us to find an agreeable middle ground. Good day.”

He turned back abruptly. The wind caught in his cloak and he was too irate to grab it and force it to behave. He strode back towards the shelter.

Enough was enough.

He put the Mandalorian out of his mind. He had a herd of children to chase around. He had exercises to plan, progress records to write, lesson plans to be dredged up from somewhere mysterious and dark. He could admit that he felt a little bit bad about becoming so angry, but on the other hand, it was better this way.

Trying to be friends with someone like Din Djarin took up too much space in his brain. Now that he didn’t have that burden hanging over him, he could do things like remember washing songs and teach the little ones how to light fires.

This was his purpose now.

This was the way. Ha.

The way. Get it, Mando?

Hahaha.

Ha.

“Luke.”

He was busy, Leia. One of the kids was hiding saber hilts in the sand, and it had only been funny for the first ten minutes of searching.

“Luke, I think we should talk.”

Funny how it only mattered when she wanted to talk. It never mattered when Luke didn’t want to talk, now, did it?

“You’re upset, Luke. Come on. Talk to me. You didn’t answer your holo-transceiver for nothing.”

Luke took a big breath and dragged himself out from under his bed. He let the covers fall back into place.

“What is there to talk about?” he asked. “Everything here is the same. We wake up, feed the kids, send everyone out to scream, bring them back in for class. They work, they eat, we work, we eat, then we all sleep and wake up and do the whole thing again. Day after day after day.”

Leia’s pale blue image’s eyes softened with the rest of her face.

“You’re a Jedi, Luke,” she said. “You’re meant for adventure. You’re bored.”

So what if he was? So what if the only things he had to occupy his mind these days were students and sand and the constant repairs needed on the shelter?

Being a jedi wasn’t only about fighting wars.

“Luke.”

“What?” he asked back more nastily than he meant to.

“What happened to your adventures with the Mandalorian?” Leia asked. “It seemed like you two were having fun.”

Having fun, she said. Huh. Wow. Luke really needed to reevaluate what ‘having fun’ looked like apparently.

“You’re deflecting again.”

“I’m not,” Luke said. “We decided that it was best if we did not continue our arrangement. That’s all, Leia.”

Leia cocked her head.

“Which arrangement? Is he no longer visiting his child?” she asked.

No, no. That wasn’t it. Mando still came for his regular visits with Grogu. Luke just didn’t go out to greet him. Or speak to him. Or anything like that. He assigned the job of seeing the child out to the Rust Bucket to one of the older children. They enjoyed the responsibility. It was good for them.

Probably.

“I see,” Leia said. “That’s unfortunate. I do worry about you, you know, out there by yourself with no trouble to get into. It doesn’t suit you.”

Luke’s trouble days were behind him. He had people depending on him now. Many people.

“Well, alright. If it pleases you. Talk again soon.”

Bye, Leia.

The next week, when he was informing a set of nails that if they dared bend when he hammered them one more time, that was it for them, he was surprised by little green hands on his. Grogu cooed at the nails. The one between Luke’s fingers started to unbend slowly, slowly until it was perfectly straight.

Luke blinked at it in shock, then jerked down to Grogu.

“That,” he said, “Was very, _very_ good.”

Grogu gurgled. He pawed at Luke’s trousers and then pointed towards the window. Luke followed the finger out into the sand.

The Rust Bucket was out there. He glared at it.

“Tell him no thank you,” he said, standing up.

Grogu whined and followed him.

“I’m busy, kiddo,” Luke said.

Grogu got claws into his pants again and wrapped himself around Luke’s shin. Luke stopped and groaned up at the ceiling.

He didn’t want to speak to Bucket Man anymore. He was done with the whole lot of them. If he saw a single Mandalorian a thousand years from now, it would still be too soon.

And yet, here he was. A baby delivery man.

He stood stiffly in front of the Rust Bucket’s ramp and called for Din Djarin from there. Grogu grabbed for Luke’s face and Luke scolded him down.

There was no answer from Mando. Which was rude.

“I guess you’re mine then,” Luke told Grogu. “All mine. Mine for the next millennia. What do you think about that?”

Grogu’s ears twitched up and then down quizzically. He pawed at Luke’s face again. And it was then that Luke realized he was holding something. It was silvery. He frowned.

“What’s that?” he asked.

Grogu jostled it against his cheek again. It looked like some kind of pendant. Luke took ahold of it and frowned.

“A mudhorn?” he asked.

Grogu shook his head.

“Ah. One horn, my mistake,” Luke said.

Grogu whined and shoved the hunk of metal further into Luke’s palm.

“Well, alright, alright, let me try again,” Luke said.

“Skywalker.”

His head came up without his permission.

Din’s helmet was emotionless.

“I require information,” Din said.

Um?

So. This was awkward.

“I don’t want it, I can’t break it, no one will take it from me.”

Luke wasn’t touching that.

“I’ve tried, unsuccessfully, to return it to the possession of a Mandalorian called Bo-Katan,” Din said, holding the darksaber out like it was a jar of preserved veg. “But she informed me that this was not the proper procedure for handling it.”

Luke looked from the saber to Din’s helmet. He could feel his lip twitching. Twitching. It wouldn’t stop twitching.

There was no _fucking_ way.

“How did you get that?” he asked.

Din’s helmet tipped a little to the side.

“You were there,” he said. “The day I gave you Grogu, I removed this from the possession of Moff Gideon on board his ship.”

He’d—he’d _what_? He’d just? Taken it?

“Yes?”

Who ARE you, Din Djarin??

No, shut up. Who. _Are_. You?

“I don’t understand your question. If you want me to answer, you have to stop interrupting.”

Luke set Grogu neatly on the Rust Bucket’s floor.

“Listen,” he said. “I don’t want any trouble.”

Din’s helmet jerked back.

“What? No. I’m not—this is a mistake,” he said, gesturing at the hilt.

No, it was not, friend. And if Luke had known who he was standing before months ago, he would have bit and then swallowed his tongue that fateful day of backtalking.

“Skywalker, please,” Din said. “I don’t want it. People have begun hunting me. I already have enough enemies. This is an unnecessary complication.”

“ _You’re_ the Mand'alor,” Luke breathed.

“No. No, no.”

“You,” Luke said. “You are.”

“I’m not,” Din said. “I’m definitely not. I’m—it was a mistake.”

Huh-uh. Nope. That thing didn’t make mistakes.

Luke carefully tipped his head forward and bowed as slowly as he could.

“I didn’t realize,” he said. “Please take my apologies for my earlier tone.”

“Not you too,” Din said miserably. “Don’t do this. Everyone is doing this. It’s awkward.”

That was not Luke’s problem, friend. Luke’s problem was not igniting a war.

“Maybe we can adjust the terms of our prior agreement,” he said.

Din stared at him through the helmet. The saber dropped out of his hand onto the floor. They both held perfectly still.

Then Grogu made an interested noise and panic spread like ice through Luke’s body.

They dove for the hilt at the same time.

Their heads crashed together. It hurt like a motherfucker and Luke swore and clutched at his forehead with both hands as Mando apologized frantically while chasing the saber hilt as it rolled down the ramp towards the sand. Grogu made a delighted sound.

Luke blinked tears from his eyes.

“YOU CAN’T BE THE MAND'ALOR,” he exploded.

“I’m NOT,” Din shot back over his shoulder.

“GOOD.”

“Help me get rid of it,” Din pleaded as he swept the hilt up out of the sand.

“Not in a million years,” Luke said. “I won’t touch that thing.”

“It’s a jedi-thing, isn’t it? Aren’t you a jedi? A master of jedi-things?” Din asked. He started to advance back into the ship. Luke scrambled away from him into the bowels of the beast.

“Not that one,” he said, pointing.

“Why not?” Din asked.

“Because your people will kill me,” Luke said. “And all the babes. Don’t you understand, Mando?”

He got nothin’. Truly nothing. Just a blank, empty helmet face.

“I don’t,” Din finally said. He dropped his face and sighed. “Alright. I’ll ask someone else.”

Wait.

What?

Oh, no. Not with the sad face. Don’t make the sad face.

HHHHHH.

He didn’t understand. Luke, that was. Not Din. Din didn’t understand things either, but that wasn’t what was making Luke gaze into the fire with a knitted brow at the moment.

“Is it not the greatest honor a Mandalorian can have?” he asked it.

“I don’t know,” Din said on the other side of the fire with Grogu in his lap playing with the edge of his gloves.

“How do you not know?” Luke groaned. “You have to know. You’re a Mandalorian.”

“They didn’t—we didn’t talk about things like this,” Din admitted. “We discussed the Way. That was what was important.”

The Way was more important than the leader?

“Of course,” Din said. “The Force is greater than the Jedi, isn’t it?”

…Good point well made. Thank you, you’re dismissed.

Din huffed a little like a laugh and Luke’s chest lit up briefly in victory.

“I recently learned that not all Mandalorians adhere to the Way the way that I was taught to,” Din said carefully.

Luke pulled his head up straight.

“You didn’t know you were in a cult?” he asked.

The fire crackled. Din’s helmet and shoulders appeared to have gone stiff with shock and horror.

“Boba Fett told me about you,” Luke said out of pity.

He swore Din winced behind the visor.

“He’s the worst, isn’t he?” Luke said.

“He’s. Unpredictable,” Din admitted. “Regardless. The answer to your question is yes. The Armorer would have beaten him senseless for taking that beskar. She would have beaten all of them, come to think of it.”

The Armorer? Was that the cult’s leader?

Din lowered his head.

“These people are not like me,” he said toward Grogu. “They are so _casual_.”

Luke cocked an eyebrow.

“What, with their faces?” he asked.

“Yes,” Din said. “And their squabbling. Their competitions and arguments and questions all over. It’s uncomfortable to be in their presence.”

Well, would you look at that. A Mandalorian finally out of his depth. Or perhaps in his depth while everyone else was fighting to the first blood in the shallows.

Interesting.

“Did you know your father’s face?” Luke asked, straightening his spine and popping the vertebrae.

“Of course,” Din said.

“Of course?” Luke volleyed back. “Is there some tenet that makes that okay?”

“Well. Yes,” Din said. “But my father—”

Luke waited. And waited. Then frowned. Din appeared to have retreated into himself. He stroked Grogu’s ears with a finger.

“Your father?” Luke coached.

It was a long time and Luke nearly missed the words, they were so soft.

“You’re a foundling,” Luke gasped.

Din looked away.

“No, that’s amazing,” Luke said. “I didn’t even think. It makes complete sense, though. I get it now. I understand. You—the Mandalorians who found you, they were strict and they brought you up with them. You couldn’t have known any different.”

Din’s helmet lowered again.

“That’s why you keep coming back here,” Luke said. “It’s not just about protecting Grogu.”

“We are a clan of two,” Din said sharply. “There are no others left.”

Oh. Wow.

“You’re a complicated guy after all, aren’t you?” Luke asked jokingly.

Din sighed.

“I only want to practice our way of life,” he said. “I only want to protect our clan. I don’t want to lead. I never wanted to lead.”

Aw. So that was why he was so reluctant to accept the saber. That was why he refrained from getting involved in the business of rebellions and empires.

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” Luke said. “I see now why Grogu is so important to you, beyond emotional attachment. It is difficult to think that you might be the last of your people.”

The fire snapped loudly.

“I too, thought I would be the last of the Jedi for a time,” Luke admitted.

Wind threw the fire into ribbons, then died down again. Din said nothing.

“It seems that perhaps we were destined to meet after all, doesn’t it?” Luke nudged.

“Perhaps,” Din finally said quietly.

Alright, they were going to do this one more time.

“I can’t get rid of the saber for you,” Luke said. “But perhaps I can help you think of a way to find a safe home for it.”

“You can?” Din asked.

“I don’t know if I can, but I can try,” Luke said. “And if nothing else, I guarantee you that I can help you lose it. I am what folks call a ‘renown troublemaker’ in this galaxy.”

Another huff. Another laugh.

Things were looking up.


End file.
